Ella is beside herself with excitement. It’s her name day, and she and her husband have made it a custom to take turns in arranging gifts for each other on their special day. Not just any kind of gifts though – sexy gifts that will ignite new levels of passion in the bedroom. After twenty years of marriage and devotion to each other and having two teenage children, they started the tradition as a way of spicing things up between them. After her extravagent gift to Ryan the previous year, Ella is going wild imagining just what her husband may have arranged for her, and spends the day setting the scene with candles and sensual lingerie. When he arrives home with a sexy stranger in tow, her mind starts racing with the possibilities and her heart starts racing with desire…

Leaning forward, I turn off the hot tap and then lie back in the bath, breathing in the delicious scent of vanilla bath essence with a contended sigh as hot water and bubbles caress my skin. I reach for my glass of Prosecco and take a sip, enjoying the cool dry taste and the fizz of the bubbles as they fill my mouth and slide down my throat.
Rain patters against the window and the skylight above me, the autumn sky already darkening at just after 6pm. Inside it’s warm and cozy, soft jazz music drifts from the open door of the adjacent bedroom, the scene well and truly set for whatever may lay ahead. Closing my eyes for a second, my mind wanders to my plans for the evening ahead and my heart leaps with excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.

Leo will be home at 8pm, as always – only two more hours to wait. One of the things I love about my husband is his reliable punctuality – though it’s a source of constant amusement for our two children, who tease him relentlessly, joking that he should have been a military man with his precise timekeeping and his obsession for planning. They don’t see the more creative and spontaneous side of Leo that I do. For example, they know nothing about the fantastic idea he came up with four years ago that changed our marriage forever.
Many countries in Europe celebrate Name Days as well as birthdays, meaning people enjoy a personal celebration twice a year. Particular names are celebrated on certain dates and gifts are given on the day for all people who bear that name, just like a birthday. Leo surprised me four years ago by suggesting that he and I should adopt the tradition, a private custom just for the two of us. We agreed that we would celebrate our name days every two years and alternate, so that we get one fantastic present between us.
Today is my name day – Ella. Tingles of excitement ripple through me as I ponder years gone by. I know that Leo will have thought of an incredible surprise for me. It’s been two years since my last gift. My mind’s been going wild with possible ideas, trying to predict or guess what he might have arranged. My body responds to the prospects that flit through my mind – flashes and snatches of the games, toys, or indulgences he might have planned, though I have no way to really know, the speculating alone causes my breath to catch. My insides hum with a fervor that’s been building all day, as I watched the clock, the hours crawling ever slower towards the evening I’ve been waiting for with a growing anticipation. My hands ache to wander across my lustful body, to stroke, to touch, to satisfy – but I resist the temptation – saving it all up, every ounce of desire, for whatever may be in store. I take another sip of the cool bubbly and release the plug from my bath with my toes, listening to the water gurgling down the drain.
No matter what Leo brings home for me I intend to give him a night to remember. I bought some new sexy lingerie online last week to wear tonight under a very slinky dress. Always a bit of a challenge having lingerie delivered to a home with two teenage children, but I’d managed to avoid getting caught. Our daughter Leah is thirteen and obsessed with buying gadgets online. Brandon, our son, is fifteen and always buying sports memorabilia, so receiving private deliveries isn’t easy. The timing was made more difficult because I work in a school finance office, and am always out and back home at the same time as the kids. I’d managed though – the soft blue and black corset lies waiting on our king sized bed.
Since the name day tradition started our sex life has become more spicy than ever before. The various online deliveries we get for each other come all through the year, our taste for indulging in little surprises getting the better of us, but the annual name day gifts are altogether more special. What will tonight’s be? I wonder. I want to know yet I don’t, the mystery alone bringing me so much delight. Like Pavlov’s dog salivating at the ring of a bell, my body responds now to today’s date alone, softening, ripening, ready.
I put my glass down and sit forward in the now empty bath. The kids have been gone for half an hour, out for dinner with my parents and then sleeping over, meaning Leo and I won’t be interrupted.

I step out of the bath onto the plush bath mat – our whole master bathroom newly renovated, like the bedroom, luxurious and modern, marble and chrome, spa like – another treat from my devoted husband, who claims to want nothing more from life than to please and delight me, and proves it often. The master suite makeover was an extra present, neither for my birthday nor a name day, but simple because, according to my darling husband, luxury is simply essential, especially in our private space, our sanctuary, the place we can be without those labels of mum and dad.
Drying my body with a soft white towel, I think about how much I love Leo – truly, madly, deeply. Life without that man, I can’t even contemplate. We are devoted to each other and always have been, since we were fifteen years old and at high school together. Since we sat next to each other in English and he kept looking at me sideways while the teacher read extracts of Romeo and Juliet. He’d quickly become my Romeo, though thankfully minus the adversity and tragedy. For the next two years we’d been inseparable, falling hard and fast, and on my seventeenth birthday we’d gifted each other our virginity.
Leo had been adamant he wanted to wait until I was eighteen, but our desire for each other had melted away his will power – and it’s not like we hadn’t already done everything but, I’d reasoned, whilst slowly and teasingly removing my clothes, knowing even at such a tender age how easy it was to render him defenceless with the power of my sexuality. That first time had been messy but wonderful, pent up passion coupled with mutual obsession had made up for our inexperience.
The rain falls harder now, lashing against the skylight and the window pane, splashing in the street outside. It’s warm inside, the heating on, my body radiating the heat it absorbed in the bath and that which it’s generating through my burgeoning desire. I slip my feet into my soft slippers and pick up my nearly empty glass, then walk naked through to the bedroom, delighting in being able to walk freely in all my glory without the kids home.
I start to light the clusters of candles that I placed around the room earlier, then I refill my glass from the half empty bottle on my dresser and look around me, smiling with satisfaction. Flames flicker softly and the scent of vanilla wafts up into the air. The room is simply beautiful, spacious yet homely, decorated by my devoted husband to reflect my own design choices – heather and ivory, silks, satins, and cotton, cushions, soft rugs and throws. Contemporary and fresh. Grown up, indulgent. The only furniture our large bed – and boy has that bed seen some action – plus my gorgeous dressing table and a padded ottoman. A walk in closet houses our clothes, allowing the rest of the room to remain clean and uncluttered, just how I like it. I take a sip of the bubbly drink, feeling a delicious wooziness in my head.
Glancing to my side, I realise the curtains are still open, the darkness outside now deep and complete. I feel a little thrill between my legs at the thought that I might have been glimpsed by one of our neighbours, or even a random stranger rushing home from work, hunched from the rain. Maybe a soft glow caught their eye and they looked up to see me wandering around naked. Maybe they slowed their pace, glanced back at me again, unable to keep their eyes away. Maybe they felt a stirring below, a hardening. Maybe they were out there even now, watching me, touching themselves, imagining… I wander towards the window and take another sip of my wine, reaching up with my spare had to clutch the long heavy curtain. I pause momentarily, admiring the stunning flower display in the window – a gift from Leo the previous day. I smile into the darkness as I draw closed the curtain, then I walk to the bed and climb on top, lying down in the centre on the soft throw, leaning back against the flurry of cushions, enjoying the textures against my bare skin as I melt further into my reminiscence.
Since that first time with Leo twenty years ago, we have become experts in giving each other pleasure. We’ve explored and experimented over the years, always finding new ways to excite and enjoy, to entice and surprise. With the birth of our children our sex life lulled a little and for some years it became almost a routine – still enjoyable but sometimes more of an afterthought, a pastime we ‘fitted in’ between work and kids, school runs and social commitments. Still we adore each other, and have only ever been with each other.
Well, until last year when he’d caught me in bed with somebody else, that is. We’d been faithful to each other for nearly twenty years since that first kiss in the school yard, and I’d changed everything. I run my bare feet over the furry bedspread and feel my heart quicken at the memory, I take another deep sip of my drink. It started in a gay bar called The Flowers. A place in town that my friends and I sometimes visit when we have our girly nights out – always a great atmosphere and nice to be in a place where guys aren’t constantly hitting on us. A few of us are married and can’t be bothered with male attention when we’re out, we just want to dance and chat and have some fun.
This time it was a young lady hitting on me instead, which was new. Her name was Nicky. I guess she was about ten years younger than me, in her mid twenties, though I never asked. We got chatting. I had my wedding ring on and made it clear that I wasn’t gay, but one thing lead to another and I ended up inviting her over to my house the next day when I knew the kids would be out. I finished work at about four, and the kids had various extracurricular clubs that would keep them out until about eight, so Nicky and I had a few hours to have some fun. When I lead her upstairs to my bedroom my heart was pounding, I’d never done anything like that before. The memory of what we did is so blissful that it threatens to distract me completely, my body singing with arousal. It’s so hard not to touch myself and delve even deeper into the memory.
No, I need to get ready for tonight, my husband will be home soon and I want everything to be perfect. I drain my glass, stand up, and check the outfit laid out on the end of the bed. I know it will show my curves off in the just the right places. According to Leo I’m blessed with a tight waist and curvy body, perfect for burlesque. I’m not sure about that, but I am comfortable with my slim build and voluptuous features, perfect for the outfit I’ve chosen. I turn and look at myself in the full-length mirror. Yes, pretty damn good for a women in her mid thirties and a mother of two children – especially since the only working out I do is running a couple of times a week and bedroom gymnastics. I step into the black thong I’d purchased – crotch-less for easy access. Pulling it into place and feeling the gash between my legs sends tingles through me. Standing in front of the mirror I pose with my hands in my curly black hair, sticking one hip out to the side, my round breasts hanging free above my small waist. I pout at myself and wink. I couldn’t stand to be waifishly thin, and certainly enjoy my food too much to even consider limiting myself in order to look a certain way – in my opinion, life is about squeezing every last drop of enjoyment out of every moment, never mind trying to squeeze myself into anyone else’s idea or ideal of what looks attractive. I slip the black lacy corset over my head and wiggle it into place, then tighten the crisscrossed lacing up the middle, pulling in my waist even further, pushing up my breasts impressively so they almost bounce out the top of the powder blue lace trim.
As I pose in front of the mirror my mind drifts back again, back to that night… I wasn’t sure I’d like being kissed by a woman. It wasn’t something I’d ever dreamed of, or fantasised about. I appreciated her attractiveness, and I was definitely turned on, so I went with the flow. As I led her upstairs, her small hot hand clutched loosely in mine, I’d wondered if it was a betrayal. But she’d soon pushed that thought from my mind when she pushed me against the closed bedroom door and kissed me. Her mouth on mine was softer than Leo’s. She tasted sweet, like pineapple. It was very odd kissing someone shorter than me, but the thrill hit me hot and hard, jolting through me like lightning.
I let Nicky lead, as she was clearly way more experienced than me. I didn’t know precisely how experienced she was; I didn’t ask, I didn’t care. I wanted to keep it as anonymous and impersonal as such an intimate experience can be. Nicky led me to the bed and we both sat next to each other on the edge. I sit down there now, in the exact same spot, as the memory immerses me, caresses me. Nicky’s touch was so delicate and gentle, being probed and touched by her was electrifying. We kissed, touched, and peeled clothes off each other. I avoided fondling her at first, resistant at the thought of touching a woman, but I allowed myself to be touched, to be explored – and Nicky was more than keen to do the touching. Her hands were as eager as her mouth, feeling and squeezing as she slowly removed my clothes. Licking and sucking, stroking and teasing. With my eyes closed I’d quickly become so aroused that I’d found my own hands reaching out and stroking the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast. I gasped at the softness of her skin, the way she trembled at my touch. She pushed me back gently so I was laying on the bed and then kissed a trail down my stomach, until her mouth was between my legs, her tongue oh so soft and hot on my swollen lips, her thumb pressing me in just the right spot, knowing just how to make my body respond. I was floating, so blissful I hadn’t even noticed my husband walking in on his return from work…
“What the fuck is going on here?” he asked, but there was no trace of anger in his voice.
“Oh, is this him?” Nicky asked, turning to look at him. “You’re right, he looks pretty good. Lucky I swing both ways, isn’t it?” I still remember how her eyes had glinted. I still remembered the look of complete and absolute shock on his face.
I smiled at him, “Happy name day darling, now don’t just stand there – get your cock out and get over here.”
You see, that had been the plan from the beginning – the whole reason for my betrayal. When Nicky and I had been chatting in that bar, at some point after several shots of Sambuca my tongue had loosened and I’d mentioned our name day gift custom. I’d gone into quite a lot of details actually, Nicky and my friends hanging one every word, intrigued and impressed. She’d asked me what he got me the previous year and I’d described the most amazing multi-functional sex toy that had led to a sleepless night of fun and many more since.
I had been pretty stumped for an idea that would top his and his name day was the following day. I’d already bought a new outfit to wear but it didn’t seem like enough. Nicky‘s suggestion took me very much by surprise, and at first I laughed it off, but she’d looked me in the eye and repeated it and I’d nearly choked on my drink when I realised she was serious.
“Look, you’re pretty hot and if you want me to join in with you and your husband I would be up for it,” are the precise words she’d used. I still remembered that moment with perfect clarity. I remember the shockwave that had gone through me, the moment of almost panic at the thought of actually doing such a thing, then the little buzz of excitement that had lit within me when I took some deep breaths and actually considered what she was proposing.
“I couldn’t do that,” I said. “No, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not trying to convince you, it was just an idea. I just thought it might be a pretty nice present for your hubby. If he’s anything like most guys I know, it would be like every one of his fantasies come true.”
The thing is, she was right. Leo and I had watched some porn together over the years. I wasn’t really into it, but it turned him on. He especially liked the films involving women together, I’d noticed.
“So you’d be interested in being with a man?” I asked after a few moments of silence between us.
“I don’t go in for labels honey,” she laughed, throwing back her head, her bobbed bleached hair falling back and showing the shaved sides underneath. “I’m just me. I’m not particularly keen on men but quite partial to a bit of cock now and then. My ex girlfriend and I used to get a guy involved sometimes, they do have their uses.”
I took Nicky’s number and thought about it. In all honesty I couldn’t stop thinking about it – it was pretty much the perfect present for him, I thought. The next day I called her and set up the plan. I knew exactly what time he would get back from work so made sure we were in just the right place for him to walk in on us. That was my gift to him. Luckily, he’d appreciated it very much, alleviating the moments of doubt that had flitted through my mind since making the plan, had I gone too far? Crossed a line? No. The line was far away and our trust in each other was endless.
I stand and move to the dresser, sitting down on the stool, noticing how my pussy is pulsating gently with the memories swarming around me. My body is ripe and ready, eager for whatever lies ahead. I open the drawer containing my makeup and begin to apply it – not too much, I like to look natural, and my clear skin and large blue eyes don’t need much, just a small amount of accentuating and a dash of pink on my lips.
I look into my eyes and once again feel deeply grateful at all I have been so very blessed with. My marriage is more than I could ever have dreamed of – our commitment to each other stronger than ever, our children growing fast into wonderful people we are proud to have had a hand in shaping. We are well on our way to achieving all we ever dreamed of. Just a few months ago Leo even managed to quit the his job and begin working full time on the stationary company that started a few years ago as a part time endeavor for us. The dream of working together full time on our own business has been longstanding and ever deepening. Leo leaving his job was an enormous benchmark, and the way things were going financially, I will soon be able to quit my job too and that will be yet another dream achieved. A new and exciting stage of our lives and at only thirty-five years old.
I stand and walk into the closet, taking down the slinky black dress I have hung at the front. I slip it over my head and step into the new black glittery heels I bought to match. I check myself in the mirror again as I add some silver earrings. The dress is perfect, strapless, so my bosom is still visible and inviting, hugging my hips and curvy thighs, stopping mid thigh with an a-symmetric hemline. Leo will love it. After rubbing some vanilla essential oil into my pulse points and running a comb through my black curls, which I leave loose and bouncy, just how Leo likes them, I feel ready, and a quiver of feverish anticipation flashes in my stomach. I take a deep breath and check my phone for the last time – just fifteen minutes ‘til Leo is due home. I turn off my phone, wanting nothing to disturb the evening.
I walk carefully down the stairs, my heels padding on the striped runner. I glance at the front door as I cross the wide hallway, my heels click-clacking on the dark wood floor that extends throughout the whole downstairs. I’m so horny part of me wants him to just open the door and take me right here and now on the stairs – we’ve done that more than once. But no, as much as my body wants to be sated, I also don’t want this intoxicating feeling to ever end; I want it to be drawn out all night.
I walk into the large open plan living space and cross to the kitchen area, pulling a bottle of Malbec from the wine rack and pouring myself a generous glass. It’s rich and delicious and I inhale the spicy flavor before swallowing, appreciating every sensation, it’s as if my senses are on hyper mode tonight. I lean over the breakfast bar and survey the room, the home we’ve created for ourselves. Like the master suite, it’s spacious and modern, marble and wood, soft grey walls with splashes of colour in the soft furnishings and large abstract artwork pieces we carefully chose together on a trip to Brighton a few years ago. Everything in this room, in this house, reflects some aspect of us, of our union, of our life together.
I look at the large art clock on the wall by the glass dining table. Five minutes, I take another sip of wine and sit on one of the bar stools, cross my legs. Then I realise I’ve forgotten to light the candles down here, so I jump up and light them all quickly, dimming the main lights so the room becomes alive with dancing flames. A couple of clicks on the remote control and jazz music completes the effect. I return to the stool again. Cross my legs again. My heart is hammering.
He won’t be able to top my gift last year, I think, as I watch the second hand march towards the top of the clock. Maybe he will have purchased tickets to take me away somewhere. Or for a night out – something we’ve never done before – the opera maybe. Sex in a private box. My mind is jabbering nervously.
The doorbell rings.
I pull open the heavy oak door with a smile on my face, my hip thrust out to the side, my arm up high on the wall. My husband is standing there waiting for me with a huge grin on his face. My husband is one hot man. Tall and perfectly built, kept fit by his active rugby playing, built but not like the Hulk, toned stomach, broad shoulders, strong thighs. He has coffee coloured skin, a blessing from his mixed heritage, and green sparkly eyes set in face that artists would delight in capturing – with chiseled cheekbones and a broad jaw. His hair is styled in the cane rows that I loved so much in our youth and spent hours playing with whilst we lay in bed together dreaming of our future, of all the possibilities.
“Well hello darling, welcome home,” I say with a smile, enjoying the way his pupils dilate as he takes in the sight of me.
“My my, don’t you look divine?” He says, his hand finding my waist and pulling me in for a kiss. His mouth is hot and tender. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, feel his hand sneak under my dress to cup my buttock, resisting the urge to wrap my legs around him.
It’s then, when I open my eyes that I notice the man standing behind him. He was hidden in the shadows of the porch before, but he steps forward now into the light cast from the hallway. A jolt of surprise hits me, but it passes quickly. I’m not sure what to make of it. This, I wasn’t expecting. My mind races but I push all thoughts away and remind myself to just go with it.
“Oh, excuse me for being so rude. I didn’t realise you’d bought company,” I say, and step back and to the side.
Leo walks inside and winks as he passes me, then turns around so he’s standing next to me, his arm placed gently around my back.
“Darling, this is Everett. He’s in town on business. We had a meeting today actually, I’ll tell you all about it later. I didn’t think you’d mind if I invited him round for a drink. Everett, this is my beautiful wife, Ella.”
The man is impressive. Very. Impressive. He’s as tall as my husband, but broader, bulkier, his skin a darker tone. He’s dressed in jeans and a white shirt, a black wool jacket and navy scarf. His attire looks expensive. His eyes are so dark they are piercing, his mouth wide and generous, his hair shaved short. He looks almost military, or like an action film star. My heart is racing. What is this? Is he? Just go with it, I remind myself.
“Of course not love. Welcome Everett, do come in.”
I see Everett’s eyes flitting down to my bust and back up again, trying to be polite.
“Thank you Ella, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his huge one, squeezes gently. Then walks past into the living area, as directed by Leo. My heart is pounding. His accent is American, New York I think. Now my mind conjures up basketball players and rappers. He’s very attractive.
“Sit, both of you, I’ll get drinks,’ Leo said, already walking over to the kitchen area.
“Can I take your coat Everett?” I offer, a tremble in my voice.
“Sure, thanks,” he replies, slipping it off and handing it to me. It’s heavy. Good quality. I hang it in the closet by the front door, my heels clacking across the hardwood as I return to the lounge area, then sit on the charcoal grey sofa opposite our guest. A large glass coffee table fills the space between us, a bowl of fruit at its centre. My mind is frantic, dancing around.
“So you’re here on business?” I prompt, the good host, even though my mind is whirling with questions far more intriguing than what line of business he’s in. What’s going on? Is he going to surprise me with a gift? A trip to New York maybe?
“That’s right, yes. I’m a stationary wholesaler based in the Far East. I operate in Hong Kong and Singapore, but represent clients in some other countries too. I met with Leo today to discuss selling some of our stock to you guys.”
That rings a bell. Leo mentioned something about finding new suppliers, lower costs, though he didn’t mention a meeting today, I’m pretty sure. I can’t wait ‘til I can leave my job and get my head fully into our business – but that’s what these kind of deals are all about – lowering costs, upping profit margins.
“Ah, yes, I remember,” I say. “You’re the stationary king who might become our main supplier.”
“I sure hope so Ella, we have some pretty spectacular deals on offer.”
I smile. I can’t believe I was sitting here thinking about profit margins, talking about stationary. Today, of all days. Surreal. Where’s Leo with those drinks? I look over and see him fiddling with the iPod. I look back at Everett. His eyes flit down to my legs. I’m aware the dress rode up my bare thighs slightly when I sat down. My stomach clenches with something far more thrilling than nerves.
“Leo told me that you have a few interesting customs here. You need to invite somebody into your home to see what they are really about before you do business with them.” His face is friendly, questioning.
“Oh he said that did he?” I ask, feeling my insides melt as the realisation strikes home – the question that I’ve been unsure about finally answered. My husband has bought this man home for me.
Everett is my present.
“Red for us all,” Leo says, carrying a silver tray with three glasses and the bottle of red wine I opened before. “It’s the one I was telling you about in the car Everett.”
“Sounds delicious,” our guest replies, though his eyes are on me, not the wine. “I’m sure it will taste just as good as you described it.”
What has Leo told him? Does he know, or is he just picking up on the vibe? Leo pours us all a glass before sitting next to me.
“Cheers everyone, here’s to new friends,” he holds his glass up and Everett and I follow suit, echoing his ‘cheers’.
“You have a lovely home,” our guest comments, glancing around. “It actually reminds me of home. The states, I mean. Very open, not like other homes I’ve seen over here. It’s beautifully designed.”
“Thank you, we designed it ourselves. Ripped out all the walls. I don’t like to feel confined. I’ve always been quite taken with American, um, style, actually.” I comment. “How long are you over here for?” I ask, taking another deep sip of my wine. It’s rich and fruity. Delicious.
“I’m flying home tomorrow actually. Just a brief visit this time, but now I’m establishing some relationships here, I’ll be back for sure.”
Leo’s hand has found its way to my thigh, is stroking me gently as I make conversation with Everett. I uncross my legs.
“Have you visited many associates’ homes while you’ve been here?”
“No, actually. I have had dinners with a couple, but none were quite as welcoming as you two.” I see his eyes stray down to Leo’s hand now, which is creeping up under my dress. Everett squirms in his seat, readjusts his jeans. Damn, he’s got a boner, I realise. I open my legs a little more, offering him a view up my dress.
Is he just here to watch? I wonder. I realise I like the idea of him watching, of him being turned on by it. I remember being in my bedroom earlier, imagining that someone out in the street was watching me. I turn my head towards my husband and he leans in to kiss me, long, hard, and deep. His hand creeps around to my inner thigh, moving slowly higher. I start to rub his thigh too now as we kiss, and stop pretending that this is a normal situation and we are simply hosting a guest for drinks. My hand moves higher and finds my husband’s cock through his chinos. He’s hard. Really hard. This is exciting him a lot, which causes a pang of lust to his me hard between the legs. I rub him through his trousers as his fingers start to rub my sweet spot. I groan, and he kisses me deeper, his tongue filling my mouth. Fuck, I am so horny, so turned on, every nerve ending jangling with pleasure. His fingers reach down and find the slit in my knickers, feel the wetness there, dip inside me. He groans.
“I bought Everett here as your gift baby,” Leo says when he stops kissing me. “Happy naming day. Now I personally would love to watch you get fucked by him, but it’s your special day, so you do as you please.” He pulls his hand away from my pussy and I feel colour rising in my cheeks. I see Everett is still sitting back casually, watching. He doesn’t seem shocked by Leo’s words, or our actions. I stand up.
“Everett, would you please kindly help me with my dress?” I ask, and he stands without a word and walks towards me. He takes my dress by the hem and I lift my arms over my head. He pulls the dress up slowly, inch by inch revealing my sexy underwear, my curvy body. He throws the dress to the side, his eyes wide, appraising my body.
“Oh baby, you luck fucking amazing,” Leo exclaims and I smile at him. I knew he’d like it.
“Sit,” I command, and point Everett towards the opposite end to the sofa where Leo is sitting, leaving a space in the middle for me.
I turn slowly in a circle, so that both men can see me and appreciate me. I hear a grunt. Heavy breathing. The feeling of being watched causes another rush to go through me. I don’t know how it’s possible to get any more turned on but it’s like someone keeps turning up the heat.
“You are so fucking sexy. Isn’t she fucking sexy?” Leo comments.
“Yes sir, she is one very sexy lady. You’re a lucky man.”
“I think you’re about to be a lucky man too Everett. She likes you.”
I sit between the men, and put a hand on each of their thighs.
“Well I think maybe you’re both about to get lucky,” I smile, my voice is husky with lust. My hand reaches both of their cocks, and strokes through their trousers as I start to squirm, my pussy getting wet.
“Undo them,” I say, and both men follow my command, unzipping their flies.
When I take their hard penises in my hands, one in each, I can’t help but gasp. Two cocks. Two cocks hard for me, eager for me. Both men groan when I grip them firmly and start to stroke. I close my eyes and gasp, and feel two hands on me. To my right, Leo’s hand finds its way back to my thigh, stroking, rubbing. To my left, Everett reaches for my breast, cupping it through the material of my corset, feeling the plumpness of it spilling out the top. My husband reaches up and pulls down the cups for him, setting my breasts free, then both men take one each in their hand, squeeze, feel, tease as I continue to pleasure them with my hands. Leo is kissing my neck and I turn my face to him, he looks at me and whispers ‘Okay?’ I nod and smile reassuringly. I am more than okay.
I turn to kiss Everett then. The first man I have ever kissed in this way, other than my husband, and the only reason I would even consider doing so is with my husband’s blessing. His mouth feels different, but good, his technique different, but great. I’m alight with need, my body gasping to be pleasured.
“God damn, you’re a sexy woman,” Everett whispers and then nibbles my earlobe. Jesus, that feels good.
There is groaning coming from both sides of me. I have an overwhelming urge to pleasure my husband. I stand suddenly, releasing both men from my hands, and move the coffee table out of the way, bending over to give my audience a good view of my arse as I do so, before kneeling on the floor between my husband’s legs. I take his cock in my mouth and start to suck it in and out slowly, as I have many times before. I know exactly how he likes it – I know how to tease and build his pleasure, I know how to cup his balls with my hand and how to tickle the head of his dick with my tongue as I suck.
I love the moan of ecstasy that he emits as I suck a little harder and take it in a little further. I glance at Everett and see him watching. I move my hair away from the side of my face so he has a good view of me sucking cock. Leo is moving his hips now, unable to stop himself from gently fucking my mouth. I realise that Everett is stroking himself as he watches me.
“Baby, I could have you suck my cock all day and all night. You know that. But you can do that anytime. I bought this good man here as your gift. Don’t be scared. Go enjoy him.” Leo is holding my face either side, looking into my eyes intently. I nod and stand, walking to Everett, who is looking up at me in an almost drunken haze.

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